


Choke

by theescapist99



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, anyway, but there are mentions of it, dead crow dont eat, have more angry percival graves, i dont know im told that that tag is useful if you have taboo subjects, or the underage, post movies, so im putting those archive warnings just to be safe, sorry lol, theres no graphic depiction of the rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 23:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10372239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theescapist99/pseuds/theescapist99
Summary: Percival finds out that Credence likes to be on the receiving end of a bit of a choking kink. When he tries to get to the root of the issue, he only ends up with more feelings than he bargained for. And so, he deals with it the best way Percival Graves knows how.





	

“Choke me.”

Percival stopped abruptly, still breathing hard into the base of Credence’s neck. He looked up at the boy, who was still heaving and panting with pleasure; his cheeks flushed with pink.

“What?”, Percival asked, unsure if he had heard right.

“Choke me, Percy.” Credence repeated, he angled his head so he could meet Percival’s gaze. “Please? Just a little.”

Percival bolted upright, scrambling off of Credence suddenly. His expression was incredulous.

“Why in God’s name would I do that?”

Credence stared back in equal confusion, “I’m sorry? You don’t have to, I guess. It was just a request.”

Percival raised an eyebrow at him -- the way the boy talked, it was as if he had asked a request as simple as cock sucking. It wasn’t that Percival wouldn’t do anything to please his boy. Credence should really know that by now.

It was more the fact that the boy had never requested anything quite so…violent.

“I, uh…I’m not sure you’d enjoy that,” Percival told him finally, saving the questions for what gave him such a god awful idea in the first place for later. Below the fabric of his pajama pants, his erection still throbbed surprisingly hard.

“I would.” Credence answered simply.

“Why?”

Credence seemed to hesitate, and Percival came to the conclusion on his own before the boy could speak again.

“You’ve been choked before.”

Credence flinched a little, confirming the theory.

Something angry woke in the pit of Percival’s chest, but he tried to quiet it for now. He mustn’t look angry, he knew that scaring the boy off would not be in anyone’s best interest.

Percival tried to put on his best interrogation room poker face as he asked, “Grindelwald?”

To his surprise, Credence shook his head.

_Interesting._

Percival’s understanding was that Credence had never had any relationships outside of Grindelwald, himself, and his former family. He supposed it was entirely possible that there could have been someone else at one point or another, but still, he wouldn’t have found it likely. Credence, although he had blossomed in recent months, still seemed frequently naive and tentative…until now.

“Who, then?” Percival pressed the matter, noting that Credence wasn’t bothering to correct him after he had gotten it wrong.

Credence shook his head again, with a bit more emphasis this time.

“It’s…nothing. Really.” Credence sighed. The boy crept closer to Percival, trying to close the gap. He put a hand on Percival’s upper arm, rubbing circles on his shoulder in what Percival assumed was supposed to be a seductive manner, “Let’s just continue where we left off, yeah?”

Percival turned his head so that they were face to face. Credence looked eager to please, but it only exacerbated Percival’s suspicion that he was hiding some deep, dark secret. Percival grabbed the hand on his shoulder gently, pulled it down, and then gripped it firmly. Credence winced.

“Credence, _who choked you?_ ”

Suddenly, Credence yanked the hand away so abruptly that Percival’s surprise allowed him to let go. His dark eyes squinted in a sulky glare. “I should have known you’d react this way. Never mind, seriously Percy.”

Percival scoffed dramatically, “It’s hardly the kind of request people typically make, Credence! You can’t just expect me to skim over it!”

Credence pouted, clearly regretting he ever said anything and not enjoying the direction in which this was going.  

“Fine. Yes, I have been choked before during sex. And yes, I _kind_ of liked it.”

“Who?”

“Why does it matter who?”

“Why are you deflecting?”

“I’m not.” Credence stated matter of factly, “There’s just…nothing anyone can do about it now. It happened years ago.”

“Years ago?!?” Percival repeated disbelievingly, gaping, “Credence, you’re barely 24! Exactly how many years ago was this?”

The eye contact dropped.

Credence didn’t seem to want to answer that, but Percival could tell from the conflicted expression that it had to be bad. The angry thing squirming around in his chest seemed to be getting harder and harder to quell. Percival’s hands curled into fists, gathering up bunches of the bedsheets on which they sat.

“Your mother?” Percival ventured, and Credence shook his head again.

Percival rolled his eyes, frustration overtaking him. Through gritted teeth, he hissed, “You know if I really wanted to find out what you’re hiding, I can do it with or without you telling me, right? There’s mind reading, there are truth serums… all sorts of ways. So you either tell me now, or I get it out of you the hard way.”

Credence’s eyes widened fearfully. Percival knew he wasn’t being fair, or even mature about this. It was his certainly his emotions talking for him. But as both of them have come to know, his possessiveness and protectiveness of the boy were nothing to be reckoned with.

Finally -- likely realizing that Percival meant every word -- Credence confessed, “It was a priest that volunteered at the church a lot… Ma’ was always kind of hot on him. He wasn’t hot on her though. He liked… kids. He first took me when I was maybe 11. Modesty, too. Sometimes, he’d get off on making me do things to her while he watch--”

“Stop.”

Percival interrupted Credence abruptly.

The angry thing in the pit of his chest had grown into a full-blown furious thing. He could already hear the sound of the windows around him cracking under the weight of uncontrollable, vengeful magic.

Percival had to get out.

Without another word to the boy, he got off the bed and stormed out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind him. The moment he stepped into the sitting room just outside, damn near every glass or porcelain object surrounding him exploded.

Percival let out a carnal scream that somehow managed to muffle the sound of the breakage.

 

* * *

 

As the following days passed, Credence and Percival tried to resume business as usual.

After all, prior to their conversation, the relationship had been going quite well.

Credence had finally been allowed to find himself as a person, and his behaviors had only begun to reflect that of a normal adolescent. He seemed to begin to accept the fact that he had his own wants and desires, and sometimes it was okay to act selfishly on them.

Percival felt he had done a good job of encouraging that.

Until that conversation, Percival had believed that they had untangled much of the binds that tied him to his childhood traumas.

Yet after Credence’s odd little request, Percival began to see signs that the knot in those binds ran much, much deeper than he had previously thought.

“I just find it really hard to imagine you liking it,” Percival said over dinner one night, breaking what had been an otherwise rather awkward silence. While he wasn’t keen on bringing up subjects that might upset the boy, he was also very intent on finding answers to questions that now seemed to be nagging in the back of his mind 24/7.

Credence huffed, likely wishing he knew how to obliviate Percival’s memory of their discussion. He frowned as he ran a spoon through lukewarm tomato soup, “I don’t know. Honestly, he’d do it so hard that think I almost died a few times. It was… nice.”

 _“Nice?_ ” Percival nearly spat out his own food. “Almost dying was nice?!? Is that what you fucking call it these days?”

Credence hummed and with an astounding air of nonchalance he explained, “Yeah. I mean… the times where I’d lose so much oxygen, I blacked out…I would get this floating sensation. And then there was a white light that wasn’t quite white. I’m not sure it was even a color. But it was beautiful, and it was warm and I… I guess I felt a little closer to God. I felt the same the night in New York. The night they tried to kill me.”

Guilt turned his stomach at Credence’s words. Thinking back, Percival grimaced, “And you wanted me to choke you because you want to experience that again?”

Credence nodded.

“Would you want someone to talk to about all this?” Percival proposed gently, “Maybe a therapist or a…”

“I’m not suicidal, Percy.” Credence stated bluntly, “I don’t want to die. I just want to, you know… almost die, I guess. I mean, he did bring me back every time.”

Percival chuckled darkly, “You say that like you’re disappointed.”

Credence swallowed down a spoonful of soup before he shrugged, “Sometimes, I was.”

 

* * *

 

About a week after that, Abernathy came to his office at around 7 AM looking shaken.

“Yes?” Percival growled at him over a canyon of piles of paperwork.

“Mr. Graves, sir, um, we believe there may have been unauthorized use of the..the execution room around 3 AM last night.”

Percival merely raised an eyebrow at him, “Oh?”

In true Abernathy fashion, the seemingly small reaction seemed to rattle him even more. He flinched as though Percival had screamed.

“Yes, um…still not sure how they got in,” Abernathy tiptoed closer the desk, and he set what looked to be jewelry on the corner of the hardwood surface, “That's all that was left behind.”

Percival picked the item up to examine it. Black rosary prayer beads speckled with blood glinted dimly in the office lighting.

“I’ll look into it. Thank you, Abernathy.”Percival hummed casually, putting the beads aside and bringing his attention back to the timesheets on his desk.

“Ye-yes sir,” Abernathy stuttered as he showed himself out, “T-thank you sir.”

The door shut closed with a loud click.

Percival threw the beads in the trash.

The memory of the old priests terrified expression, as Percival squeezed down hard on his decrepit throat, came to mind.

Percival remembered his final gasp for air before he went limp, and Percival remembered the satisfaction of watching the corpse drop into the acidic black potion below him, as the vile fiend was swallowed by death itself. The beads must have fallen off in the process.

_Oh well._

As Percival scrawled his elegant signature on yet another time sheet, he smirked.

 


End file.
